My Refuge
by Nerdcolonist
Summary: Clarissa Morgenstern has a secret. A secret that could ruin her but that doesn't stop her from continuing on with the action, oh no. It only makes her crave it even more. What happens when Jace Herondale of all people find out and he holds the power to either ruin her or keep her deadly secret? Mainly a Clace story and later Sizzy and Malec. I'm unsure about a rating so ill go safe
1. Chapter 1

Dislcaimer: I do not own this but I wish I did sometimes

I would love for some reviews guys, I really would. That would be so nice and I hope you guys like it. I plan to post the second part within the week.

In. Out. In. Out. One eye closed, the other open. Her finger resting against the trigger in a sense of familiarity. She pulled back on the trigger sharply, a shot ringing out coldly against the silent air. It wasn't really silent, there was her breathing and the shots that she fired at a rhythmic pace. She, Clarissa Morgenstern, loved the feel of the gun in her hands. The metallic smell that rubbed onto her hands, the recoil that still gave her shoulder a slight sting after every session. She lay down in the snow, her stomach resting flat against cold compacted white stuff underneath her. She blocked everything out, the cold that filled her body , the little voice saying she would get caught, there was only her, the gun, and the target. Shooting, was like a drug to her. Each time a rush, a high, she didn't want to get over. Each time she picked that gun back up, the rush quickly filing her, she took one step further away from her family, her heritage but she loved it. She loved every minute of it and didn't regret it in the slightest. She closed her bright, green eyes briefly inhaling the sharp sent of the metal that was so close to her face. She thought back to the first time she had held a gun, five years ago.

It was snowing, the middle of winter and Alicante and she had just blown up at her father. Valentine Morgenstern was not a kind man, he was cruel and strict but powerful. He had found Clary, Clarissa, ditching training to draw. He snatched the paper out of her hands with such force the sketchbook ripped, throwing paper everywhere. Clary gasped and cowered under his enraged gaze. He lifted his hand up and brought it down with such force against her cheek, she was thrown to the floor. She clutched her face with one of her hands, her body trembling. Her mother, Jocelyn, and her brother Jonathan, came rushing into the room at the sound of Clary's strangled cry, he never hit Clary but he had never been as angry at her.

"What do you think you are doing?" He snarled, kneeling down close to her. "You were skipping training to do what? A frilly drawing? I thought you were stronger than to revert to such a womanly task. You are a _warrior _Clarissa! You are one of my warriors! Yet here you are, taking after your mother in such a way it disgusts me. Get up." He ordered, staring down at the wide-eyed girl of twelve who lay on the floor. "Get. Up." He said in a deadly whisper that sent chills down her back. Jonathan and Jocelyn stood at the doorway, their mouths hanging open. They saw Clary's eyes harden, her jaw setting in such a way that she resembled her father Valentine. Jon shook his head at Clary, silently begging her to just do as their father said. He may not have been the best brother but she didn't deserve his anger, nor should she push it.

Clary lifted herself up from the ground, her eyes hard and angry. She saw Jon but refused to back down.

"Who said I wanted to be a warrior?" She asked quietly, the tension growing thicker by the moment. She looked up at Valentine, who gave her a shocked look, before he raised his hand again. She flinched but didn't back down. Valentine was impressed with his daughter, but white fury still burned through him.

"I did." Clary stared back at him, her eyes narrowing and he could see the adrenaline pumping through her. Clary only needed to be pushed to do what he wanted. A crack sounded in the room and Clary pulled her hand back from his face. She had slapped him. Her eyes grew wide and she quickly hurried out the door, through her brother and mother and out the back door. Valentine watched as her little red head became a dot against the snow and he smiled. It was a cold, calculating smile, one that sent shivers through Jocelyn.

"She is a warrior. She just doesn't know it yet. Tell me when she gets back, Jonathan." He ordered, leaving the room.

"Yes, Father." The ever obedient son said.

Clary ran farther and farther away from the house, tears burning cold against her face as the winter winds whipped her hair this way and that. Clary didn't know where she was going but she had to get away. Her father had ripped away the one thing that she actually enjoyed. She didn't enjoy the constant training, the endless tests. She loved drawing, being able to lose herself in something so effortless to her. She ended up at Lake Lyn, the lake the Angel Raziel had risen from. She had run a few miles in her desperate attempt to get away from what her life was becoming. She stepped onto the frozen lake and felt herself calm down.

She cocked her head to the side at the sight of something black and unfamiliar laying in the snow a few feet away from her. A small part of her told her to leave it alone and go back home but curiosity killed that cat, right? She lifted it up into her hand and the world seemed to stop spinning. Holding that weapon, in her hand felt so...right. It was like it was made for her. The only other thing that had ever felt right in her hands were a pencil and that had been brutally taken from her. None of the other weapons her father placed in her hand to hold fit quite like whatever that black thing was. She took in a deep breath and tranquility surged through her. Whatever this was, it was right. A crunch behind her caused her to snap back to reality. She acted on instinct bringing it up with both her hands and looking through the sight.

"Jocelyn?" The man asked, his eyes wide.

"How do you know my mother's name?" Clary questioned, her voice steady. She stood with her legs apart, the weapon an extension of her body.

"Clary?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me who you are and how you know me, now." She ordered, her finger slipping into place in the trigger. A small part of her wondered how she was so clam, facing this man with a weapon she had never seen before, but it came as natural to her as breathing.

"My name is Luke Garroway. I know, knew, your mother before she married Valentine." Recognition flashed on Clary's face. She heard the name whispered by her mother often. She grieved him, for she thought he was dead.

"You're supposed to be dead. That's what Father told her." Clary said her eyes narrowing once more. Luke, or the man saying he was Luke, gave a bark of a laugh.

"That's what Valentine said, huh? Well, I didn't die. I'm a downworlder now and you are holding my gun." Gun. That word crossed Clary's mind as she realized what this weapon was and she almost shivered at the thrill it gave her.

"You shouldn't leave it laying around for people to take." Clary said, lowering the gun. She held onto it tight, wishing to never let it go, as she realized Luke was not a threat to her. He gave her a small smile. 'She's just like her mother.' He thought.

"You're right I shouldn't, but now that you have it, how about I show you how to use it?" He questioned.

"I know how to use it." Clary stated. Luke gave her a disbelieving look and a fierce determination crossed her face. Spinning around Clary lifted the gun back up, holding it steady with her legs apart and pulled the trigger. A shot rang out before a quick 'thoosh' signaling that she had hit her mark, a tree a little over a hundred yards away. Luke's jaw dropped and he looked at Clary. There was something natural about the way she held the gun and used it. 'She must have used one before.' He thought but shook his head. 'No. She's a shadowhunter, they don't train with guns. They can't in the city.' He thought.

"I know how to use it."Clary repeated and Luke just nodded.

Ever since that day Clary came back every week to shoot. She had her own personal armory thanks to Luke. He supplied her the weapons and she had to do some dirty trading to get the ammo but it was worth it to her. It was the only thing she actually enjoyed. She went back after shooting, hiding the gun under the floorboards and using some runes to cover it up.

"How nice to see that you have returned to us, Clarissa." Her father said with a dark smile. Clary raised her head, a placid look on her face.

"I have. You were right. I am a warrior and I just needed to realize it." Clary said, her voice dead with defeat. Valentine chuckled. His dark eyes lit up in the most sinister of ways and the light caused his white hair to turn a darker color, reminding Clary of a demon.

"Jonathan. Spar with Clarissa. Get her caught up by any means necessary." He ordered leaving Clary alone with Jonathan. He gave her a dark smile, his dark eyes and white hair just like their father's.

"Do you realize what you are getting into, Clary?" He asked, showing some brotherly colors. "I saw that black thing. Father will kill you if he sees." Jonathan whispered. Clary's eyes held his steadily and her posture ridged.

"Father would kill you if he knew what you did on the weekends too." Clary retorted as she grabbed a blade and took out her stele to take away it's edge.

"Fair enough. I cover for you, you cover for me, eh Sis?" She frowned at him before nodding sightly. She leaped forward, the adrenaline still pumping from holding the gun running through her veins. Jonathan took a second to get over his shock and jumped back but not before getting a thump on the chest from her. He grinned wickedly before launching forward and attacking Clary relentlessly. The two kept at it for hours and Valentine was glad to see his children, his warriors, working to be the best fighter there was.

Clary was a good fighter. Jonathan admitted as he parried another blow. She was quite strong for being so little and he had to stay on his toes.

"Not bad little sis but you're gonna have to do better." He snarled as he pinned, his seraph blade against her throat. She was breathing hard, like him, but the determination was still evident of her face. Someone started clapping and Jonathan and Clary looked over to see Valentine applauding them.

"Very good, Clarissa. Well done, Jonathan. I'm proud of you both." Jonathan felt Clary shiver at his words but he brushed it off as nerves. Clary hated her Father being proud of her. It felt like she was doing something wrong. Jonathan removed the blade from Clary's throat and helped her up. Valentine gave them a nod before ordering them to shower and come to dinner. Once he was out of sight, Clary put her hand on her brother's arm to stop him.

"We're good, right?" She asked her face a mask. Earlier this morning, Clary couldn't hide her emotions but now she wore such a great mask Jonathan was almost shocked.

"We're good." he said, giving her a nod. With that Clary walked out of the room her head high. Jonathan stared after her. Whatever it was that she brought home had changed her in some way that he wasn't sure if it was good or not. She was only twelve and yet she had been begun to master the mask all shadowhunters eventually wore.

Clary opened her eyes again, brushing off the memory as she stood up. She trudged through the snow to her targets and let herself smile. Valentine had taken away her art and molded her into a warrior, a warrior she never wanted to be. But this, he couldn't take this away from her. She wasn't a weak little girl anymore. She fingered the holes in her wooded target as she slung the gun, a high powered sniper rifle, across her back. Guns were against her culture but they were the only refuge left for her. She looked up suddenly feeling a pair of eyes on her and she surveyed the area around her. She quickly folded the targets back down and began to cover them in snow. Clary jogged back the few hundred meters and put the gun away in a rush. She hurried back towards her house, holding the gun case close. If someone found her, found her with a gun, a thing against shadowhunter culture, she would be ruined and cast aside. If there was one thing Clarissa Morgenstern knew it was that no one must ever know about the gun. Too many knew already and she would like to keep it as such.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.**

**I'd like to ask you all to please, please, please review. I'd appreciate it greatly. I really would.**

**Jace's POV**

Jace Herondale was curious about Clarissa Morgenstern ever since he first met her when she was twelve and him thirteen. The little redhead had just begun the bi-monthly classes to prepare young Shadowhunters for adult life. She walked in beside Jonathan Morgenstern and Jace being the "ladies man" he is, sauntered across the room and laid his arm across her shoulder. 'Wow, she's short.' He thought.

"Hey there, Red. Can I ask what you are doing with him?" He drawled, motioning to Jonathan. Jon gave a throaty growl at Jace but Clary silenced him with a look. 'She has him whipped. This is interesting.' Jace thought with a smirk. Clary turned her face up at him and Jace forget everything. She had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Better than all the blue, brown, and green. Her brilliant emerald eyes were the most entrancing eyes he had ever seen.

"I'm with him because he's my brother and I'm not with you because I'm not a slut, Herondale." She said before brushing off his arm and walking away. Jace stared at her, mouth agape. Jonathan let out a chuckle, patting Jace on the shoulder. Not even a teenager yet and she had put Jace Herondale of all people in his place.

"Don't even think about touching her, Herondale. I'm warning you." He said before walking away and taking a seat. Jace stared after him and considered Clarissa a challenge. She didn't fall for his charm, all the others did and he was only thirteen.

"Go away Goldie." She muttered twirling a pencil in her hand. She looked like she wanted to draw something but a cough from Jonathan made her rethink it and she put the pencil down.

"Not gonna happen, Red." He smirked and tugged on one of her red curls. She glared at him and pulled her hair away. He reached for another one when she slapped his hand away and then the teacher came in.

"This isn't over, Red." He whispered. She turned to give him one last look before looking at the teacher, a mask slipping over her pretty freckled face. Jace gave a jolt, he had only ever seen one mask like that: his own.

* * *

Jace sighed as he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight and the snow falling. He rubbed his temples with his long pianist hands. 'Why can't I get her out of my head? I've only known her for seven years.' He asked himself bitterly. He dropped his head back against the snow and stared at the snow. For some reason he couldn't get Clarissa out of his mind. He wanted to know what she hid under her mask, why she wore a mask to begin with. He wanted to know her.

Jace Herondale was never one to pine after a girl, but she wasn't a girl. She was _Clary. _He tired making her jealous, nothing. He pushed her, she pushed back. He teased and taunted her, she only got angry. It was like that little mask of hers was all she ever wore and there was nothing underneath. But he knew better. That's what he presented as his front but there was something underneath, there always is. Jace tried to force her out of his head, getting hurt, sleeping around, drinking away her face. Nothing worked, it never did. There was just something about her, he couldn't quite explain nor would he ever tell another person about her.

He sat up quickly, pushing his blonde hair out of his face, at the sound of someone walking through the snow. He glance around, zeroing in on a short Shadowhunter with flaming red hair. He smirked, he was about to get up and go after her when he noticed something out of the ordinary. She was smiling? She was also carrying something, something big and in a black case that was almost as long as she was tall. Jace cocked his head to the side and watched her continue to walk and smile carrying that large black case from where he sat in the snow. She didn't notice him but it might have been because she wasn't wearing her mask or that he was wearing a gray jacket and had been laying in the snow for a while. After she was a good distance away he got up and followed her. Whatever she was doing it took her mask away, it did something he had wanted to do ever since he saw her mask; it took it away and wanted to know the secret it held.

He spotted her red head laying down in a little clove she had dug in the snow. He smirked and was about to go down to her when a sound he had never heard sliced through the air and caused him to jump. His heart was pounding quickly and he grasped onto his seraph blade and pulled it out to kill whatever made that noise before it go to Clary. 'Mighty protective of her, aren't we?' A little voice in his head whispered but he pushed it aside and took a step towards Clary when the sound occurred again. He stared down at her from where he stood and something clicked. He had been outside all morning and only when she arrived did that noise sound.

He narrowed his eyes and saw something sleek and black resting against her shoulder. She looked so...peaceful when she had that thing in her hand. Another sound. She smiled euphorically and gave a twinkling laugh. Jace stopped. He had never heard her laugh like that. It was, it was like the angel's had given her voice their bells. He settled down in the snow and watched her. Something inside him knew what she was doing was wrong but it made her mask disappear and he was filled with something he couldn't describe as he gazed down at her. He knew she shouldn't being doing whatever she was doing and he knew that he wasn't supposed supposed to wittiness it.

She stood up and radiated power. There was something about the way she held herself confidently with that thing in her hand, the way it seemed to fit like a glove. It was intoxicating to see her like that and Jace almost let out a girly sigh as he looked at her. He shook his head but stopped, his body going still with fear, when he saw her look up abruptly. Her eyes scanned the area before she took down her targets and ran back to her little clove. She filled it in and put her weapon away before leaving, heading back towards the Morgenstern Manner. Jace watched her leave and he knew he had to know more about her and whatever it was she was doing. An idea spun in his head and he grinned like a child before taking off running.

He had an idea to get some info from her. He had an idea to get to know her better. He had a plan to get under her mask and maybe she'd get under his. There was the same little part of him, the part that wanted to see her, that wanted to be seen too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot line**

**So I wrote half of this and then I finished it just a few moments ago. Umm, I'm not sure how good this chapter is and I'm not very good at writing the fight scenes, especially when there have been scenes that been written by the original author so please bear with me. In addition to that I couldn't figure out any way to put the reveal in there so you'll have to wait for that til later.**

Clary walked into the training room, shaking the snow out of her red hair, breathing hard. So much snow had fallen while she was outside, her hair color was the same as her father's and it made her look dark almost, it wasn't natural. She looked like Valentine, hard, cold, and sinister. She had a bounce to her green eyes that could only have been caused because of whatever she had been holding only minutes before. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice Jace until she was right upon him, stopping short, her eyes wide in shock and confusion.

"Wha-What are you doing here?" She sputtered, causing Jace to smirk.

"Ah, Clarissa. I thought I heard you." Valentine said, entering the room. The temperature seemed drop and all emotion left Clary's face. She instantly straightened, her legs together and back so rim-rod straight Jace thought she was trying to grow another few inches. Jace narrowed his eyes at her sudden change, but didn't say anything, not with Valentine there.

"Jace came here saying he wanted to train with, 'The Morgenstern who can challenge me.' If I quoted him correctly," he looked to Jace for confirmation and Jace gave a slight inclination of his head. "I invited him in of course, and told him that Jonathan would meet him in the training room, but he wasn't talking about your dear brother. He was talking about you, Clarissa." He gave her a look that might have been affectionate, but Valentine was not an affectionate man. He walked towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm proud of you dear Clarissa. You have done well." A darkness crept over her eyes and she merely nodded. 'You wouldn't be if you knew.' she thought, suppressing a shiver at what his reaction would be if he ever found out. She still didn't like it when he praised her, said he was proud of her; it sent something squirming inside of her that she couldn't quite stomach.

"I would like you to spar with, Jace here and challenge him." He seemed amused that Clary challenged Jace. He believed that she challenged him in combat, but all she really did was play with his mind and emotions. Jace thought that she was probably pretty good in combat, she would have to be with Jonathan as a partner, but he didn't expect her to be challenging. He had lied to simply be near her, to learn about her, to see under her mask.

Valentine left with another nod at Clary and she did shiver this time when he turned around. Jace cocked his head to the side but didn't have the time to think it over when something small but forceful slammed into him from the side and he found himself flat on his back, Clary sitting atop his chest, a lethal looking knife pressed up against his throat.

"What game are you playing at, Herondale?" She hissed, leaning down close to his face. Jace took a second to admire her green eyes, they were a combination of several shades of green to produce that emerald he thought was so gorgeous. He snapped back too at the pressure of the knife pressing closer to his neck.

"Why do you think I'm playing a game? You could be challenging, but I'm not sure it would be in sparing." He said with his trademark smirk. Clary narrowed her eyes and gave him a dangerous look. She pulled back on the knife and hopped up, turning her attention to the weapons table. She slipped the knife back into her boot and stuck her hand out over the table, closing her eyes.

"What are you do-" Clary cut him off with a shake of her head, her hand hovering over the weapons. She reached down, picking up a pair of sharp-to-look-at seraph blade. She gave them a twirl in each hand before giving a nod.

"Choose your weapon, Herondale. Blunt them and the winner will get to ask questions." She said, a glint her in eye that almost made Jace shiver. He noticed as she twirled the blades that a hint of hesitation crossed her face. It was like she wasn't comfortable with what she was holding. Maybe comfortable wasn't the right word, she obviously had years of training with them and was comfortable, it was like she didn't like the way it felt in her hand, the way it didn't seem to fit the way she wanted it to, the way it should have. Jace grabbed the matching pair, relishing in the rush that surged through him at the feel. He noticed Clary had already blunted hers with her stele. He reached for his only to find it missing.

Clary smirked at him and he realized that she was holding _his _stele. 'She must have nicked it when she had me pinned.' He thought, trying to cover up the fact that she shocked him yet again. She walked over to him, a sway to her hips he hadn't noticed before. Clary was small in stature but that didn't mean everything about her was small. She had certainly filled out in the five years he had known her. He gave himself a small shake and noticed the smirk on her face.

'I can understand why people don't like that smirk.' he thought holding out his hand for his stele. Clary raised her eyebrows at him.

"I don't trust you to blunt them. I'll do it myself." She stated reaching forward to grab one of his blades. He watched her draw the rune and realized how deft she was in her movement and how bright it was when she drew it. She rubbed her hand along the supposed sharp edged and gave a satisfied nod when she came away unscathed. She repeated the process before pocketing his stele. Jace puckered an eyebrow at her.

"You can have it back after you win. That is, if you win." She said, walking backwards away from him. Jace grinned.

"That shouldn't be to hard." Her eyes narrowed and she squared her shoulders. She focused on his hands for a moment, taking in his right before inspecting his left. 'Ah, so she noticed that my dominate hand in my left hand.' He thought.'She's good.' He gave her another grin before taking a step to the side and twirled the blades once more. Clary stayed firm and Jace couldn't help but praise her once more.

'Never circle your enemy.' Clary thought. 'It leaves to many variables and openings.' The two stood there studying each other for a few minutes. It was more like a chess game between these two than an actual fight; they were battling each other in their minds. Clary sighed heavily, Jace noticed the bounce still in her eyes, and she moved forward. The sudden movement gave him little time to recover and bring the sword in his right hand up quickly to block her swing. She pushed against him further and found intense resistance. She gave a sigh before jumping back. Giving her wrists another twist before taking a step to Jace.

"What you are really doing here?" She asked, lunging forward again, bringing one arm up in a arch while the other was aimed towards his stomach. Jace parried both blows and they continued exchanging blows, blades not hitting anything but each other.

"I'm here to train." Jace said, catching that unfamiliar metallic smell again. Clary narrowed her eyes at him as she jumped back, pushing her hair out of her face. The adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she was getting high off the fight.

"No you aren't. You train with the Lightwoods or Jonathan. You don't train with me, Jace. You never have. So tell me, why are you really here?" Jace didn't answer, he instead attacked her again. The blades clashed into each other, again and again and again.

* * *

Jace grimaced each time she blocked his swing; he couldn't get a hit on her. His hair began to stick on to his head and his limbs started to ache. They had been at it for two hours and neither one of them had hit the other. He could see Clary's blows becoming sluggish and Jace took a few steps back, breathing hard. He studied Clary further, in an attempt to find her weakness but in the two hours of their spar he had come up with nothing. She was always checking her blinds spots and moving in order to not be cornered. She didn't act irrationally or emotionally. He teased her and she just stared at him. She was the perfect, and the worst, opponent. The one he wasn't sure he could beat.

"The first one to get the blow wins. I win, I get my stele back and you have to answer a question for me. You win, I leave you alone." He said, pushing his hair away from his face and to dab up some of the sweat on her forehead. She nodded, her breathing just as hard as his. Jace moved forward quickly and forcefully, his grip tight on the swords. He had to land his blow first or else he would come away with nothing. No insight on who Clary was, no peek under her mask, and no idea about that weapon that made strange noises. This wasn't something he could lose, for some reason he needed to know, to know her. And for her to know him. She stepped back, surprised that he had moved without such hesitation. She stumbled, having reached the end of the mat and now on the wood floor. Jace saw his opportunity and swung expertly, the seraph blades landing with a smack against her leg and then shoulder, tearing the material and her arms since two hours of being hit repeatedly had taken away the rune.

Clary stared down at her leg and then up at him, eyes wide. Getting hit not once but twice caused something in her to react and she brought her own forward and it buried itself, all the way to the hilt, into Jace's left leg. He jumped back, crying out in pain. He end up falling over, hissing as he touched the blade gingerly.

"What the hell was that for?! Damnit, this hurts!" He yelled as he tried to figure out a way to get the blade out. Clary rushed over to his side.

"I-I-I have no idea why I did that." She stammered as she touched her blade. 'Thank god they aren't very long, more dagger sized that an actually sword.' she thought. He gave another hiss of pain and she slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch it." She snapped. She fished out his stele and gave him a grim look. "I'm sorry, Jace but this is gonna hurt." Jace didn't have time to comprehend what she was saying when like a flash, she had gripped the hilt and pulled it out, blood coming with it. Jace gave a gasp of pain and Clary quickly drew the healing rune over the wound. Jace grimaced at the burn but his features sagged in relief when the pain began to subside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I just-" Jace cut her off with a touch on her hand. She was shaking and hadn't known it.

"Reacted." He finished for her. "You just reacted." She nodded but was biting her lip and Jace couldn't help but smirk. He plucked his stele from her hands. She gave him a confused look and he only smirked more. He drew a rune on her arm and leg before he answered her unvoiced question.

"I won." Her eyes hardened and she stepped back. Jace frowned for a moment. "And you have to answer a question. That was the verbal contract." He said carefully, realizing that one wrong move and he would push her away.

"I do." She said grabbing all four blades and putting them away. Jace took the opportunity to study her while she was turned away from him to study her.

"What was that thing you were holding out on the lake?" Jace didn't mean to blurt it right out but when he did, he knew it was the worst thing he could possible have said at that moment. She dropped the last seraph blade and it landed between her feet, her body ridged and she started shaking.

"What was that thing you were holding out on the lake?" Jace asked again, still waiting for her to answer but she didn't. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed, crumpling to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dsiclaimer- I own nothing but the plot line**

**This is a shorter chapter but I hope to have longer chapter up here for you guys soon. I worked hardish on a way to get the reveal to work, and that ended up with this. Well, I hope you like it. Please write some reviews, I'd like some feedback.**

As soon as Clary had hit the ground with a large thud, Jace jumped forward and pulled her into his lap.

"Clary? Clary, this isn't funny. Clary, get up." He patted her cheek repeatedly. He was so absorbed in making sure she was okay and would wake up he never noticed that as she fell, she oh so conveniently grasped the fallen seraph blade and was waiting for him to come closer. After he patted her cheeks for a few moments, Clary acted. She jumped up and turned over, the blade held expertly in her hand. She pressed Jace to the ground as she straddled his chest, the blade at his throat. For the second time that day Clary had not only attacked Jace but had him pinned and held a knife at his throat. He hated to admit it but it was incredibly sexy.

"I am only going to say this once, Herondale." She whispered fiercely, her eyes burning with anger and what might have been fear. "I have no idea what you are talking about and you will drop the subject almost as fast as you drop the girl you sleep with. Do. You. Understand?" She bit off the last words in a low voice that Jace couldn't help but find seductive, even if she threatening hi.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Clary. Though I have to say, this position is rather alluring." He told her, a smirk on his face. Heat rushed to Clary's face but she didn't move.

"It should be, considering this is the closest you'll ever be to getting into my pants." She leaned closer to his face, her hair tickling his cheeks. "I'd savor it for a second if I were you." She whispered before hopping up and stepping away from Jace. His hand instantly flew up to his neck and felt something warm against his fingers. He pulled his hand back to see them dipped in blood. She had nicked him! He gave her a disbelieving look and she _smirked. _

"Remember what I said, Jace. I don't make idle threats." She told her, her voice serious and her mask slipping back on. She turned on her heel and left Jace, leaning on his hands on his butt as he stared after her. He wouldn't forget about it, there were some things Jace couldn't do. He decided that he would just be better if he took a more tactful approach.

Jonathan strode into the room, giving his nose a rub before he stopped dead just like Clary had when she first saw Jace.

"Wha-What are you doing here?" He asked, taking his hand away from his nose immediately. Jace cocked his head to the side, 'It seems like there is more than one Morgenstern hiding things around here' he thought.

"I was just sparring with Clary." Jace said in a causal tone as he began to search for his stele. Jonathan gave him a veiled gaze before a corner of his mouth twitched at the thought of a smile.

"She has it. She always takes that person's stele when they battle. I'd go after her and take it back before it disappears completely or before you bleed out." He said with a dark chuckle. Jace glared at him before he stood up with a sort of grace that shouldn't have been possible in his state and hurried after her.

"Clary! Clary, I need my stele!" He called, his voice hoarse as he pressed his hand against his neck. She had more than nicked him and of all things Jace didn't want to do, die was right up there; right next to fall in love. But Jace had already fallen in love. He had fallen in love with a little redheaded shadowhunter who had something to hide. He stumbled towards what he guessed would be Clary's room, throwing open the door in his haste.

He found her sitting with her back towards the door, polishing something black and sleek, eyes wide as Jace stumbled in. Jace recognized the metallic smell and would have thought to question her when he fell to his knees, his vision blurring.

"Stele." He croaked before the world started to go black around the edges of his vision. Clary flung the door shut behind him. She grabbed his stele and quickly drew yet another healing rune deftly. He gave a sharp inhale, catching her strawberry and metal smell, before blood loss caught up with him and dark spots danced around the edges of his vision, his head lolling to the side.

"Damnit Jace." He heard before the darkness swirled around him and all he could dream of was something red and that smelled like strawberries and metal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer-I own nothing but the plot, sadly.**

**So, I'm not sure if this chapter is good or not, I just kinda wrote it and didn't really think it over. Please tell me what you think of it. Oh, I also updated, well added too, chapter 2, 3, and 4. I didn't change a whole lot but I like it better now. Please review, it would mean a lot to me to get some feedback.**

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Clary looked over at Jace who was laid across her bed haphazardly in her quick attempt to get him off her floor and her gun. Not only had the dolt caught her cleaning her rifle he had landed on it when he passed out. She wanted to be more angry at him but she couldn't find it in her. There was something about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe it was his gold eyes that matched his gold hair. Or it was his mischievous smirk that sent a thrill up her... 'No.' she thought, crossing her arms. 'You can't begin to like Jace. Liking and other things of that sort makes one reckless and prone to be forgetful.' He'd weaken her, let her defenses down, until he wiggled his way in and knew about her. About her rifle. That wasn't a chance she was willing to take, no matter how much that irrational voice told her to. The same voice that urged to her draw, to shoot, and to love. Love? She shook her head, love was not an option.

She watched Jace for another moment before she double checked the marks she had placed on her floorboards under her bed. Jace had seen her cleaning her gun and she hoped, so desperately hoped, that he would wake up and forget what he saw. She hoped he would be to dazed to remember. Clary was scared he would remember and approach her about it again. To many people knew about it all ready, her, Jon, and Luke. She couldn't afford a third person to know. The more who knew, the more likely it would be that Valentine would find out. She did not want that. That would mean her death if he found out. Clary didn't want to die, especially because some idiot found out and blabbed his mouth. 'His perfectly shaped and soft.' Stop it, she chided herself. She gave her body a quick shake before moving to rest on the bed beside him. He was murmuring in his sleep, saying something softly. She leaned down, here ear close to his lips so she could hear.

"Clary." He whispered softly. She jumped back, eyes wide. Why would Jace Herondale be whispering her name in his sleep? She didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to him to leave her alone. To leave her so precariously built reprieve alone. If he knew, her would shatter. She was about to wake him up when a knock sounded against her door and she jumped. Flew blown, leaped two feet in the air because it had scared her. She moved silently to the door, cracking it open.

"What is going on, Clary?" Jonathan, her brother, asked looking over her shoulder to see Jace sprawled out on her bed. His face turned several shades of red and looked ready to burst.

"He passed out from blood loss. I cut him pretty deep on his throat." Clary explained, pushing him away so she could step outside her room. The door clicked shut softly behind her and she turned back to Jonathan.

"He shouldn't be here. It makes me nervous. What if he found out?" Jonathan asked, his hands starting to shake. Clary gave him a sympathetic look. Normally, the older sibling was supposed to consul the younger but not in their case. But their case was beyond the normal one in every sense.

"Stop worrying." Clary demanded. "Jace isn't going to find out unless we lose our cool. We pretend nothing is out of the ordinary. Do you hear me, Jonathan? You will not mess this up!" She said and he just nodded.

"But what if he saw you? What if he saw me?" He asked and Clary shook her head, biting back her own fear for the shake of her brother.

"He didn't see you, Jon. He won't either. Just keep your cool. As for if he saw me, well I have it under control. Now, go brush your teeth and wash your face. Jace will be the least your worries if Father finds out." Jonathan paled but nodded before turning away and heading back down that hallway.

"You know, I thought _I _was supposed to help _you _with your problems, not the other way around." He told her quietly. Not many, if there were any at all besides Clary, saw the softer side of her brother. He cared but caring was soft and unwanted in their family. They couldn't afford to be soft and caring in their father's eyes. He would take it as a sign of weakness and weakness wasn't tolerated in Valentine Morgenstern's eyes.

"One of us had to grow up, Jon. But it's okay, I forgive you for making me do it." She smiled, a genuine smile, and Jon nodded before he continued to plod his way back to his room. Once he disappeared from sight, Clary walked back into her room to see Jace awake and groaning loudly.

"Be quiet." She hissed and Jace promptly shut up. He gave her an unreadable look and rubbed his throat. She softened instantly. "I am sorry about that. I didn't mean to almost make you bleed out." He didn't say anything, something unheard of when concerning Jace.

"It happens." He raised a shoulder in a shrug and Clary coked her head to the side. The way he said it made it seem like worse things had happened to him. She let herself gaze at him curiously and her fingers twitched the way they always did when she wanted to draw something. It dawned on her that she wanted to draw Jace and she quickly banished the thought from her mind and clenched her hands into fists. Drawing was risky, but she had a different outlet, one she liked much more anyway.

"Is there something on my face, Red? Or do you just like the view?" Jace asked, pulling Clary away from her thoughts. Her cheeks blazed and she looked down. He smirked. "It's okay. I know I have that affect on people." By the Angel, he was insufferable.

"You need to go, Jace. I may not have let you bleed out on my floor but I won't hesitate to smack that smirk off your face." Jace only grinned.

"I think we'd both prefer it you smacked something else." That was it. He had crossed a line and Clary was going to him pay. She stomped over to her bed, the bed he was so causally sitting up against, and raised her hand to slap him. She expected to hit him across the face and hear the sound reverberate around her room but it didn't happen.

He caught her hand in mid-air and pulled her close to him. She stumbled over her feet and ended up on top of Jace, both of them laying on her bed. She blushed a deeper red but she couldn't look away from Jace. His gold eyes, they were gorgeous, a color unlike any she had ever seen. He wasn't smirking anymore but just looking at her, his false bravado gone.

He pushed a curl back behind her ear and she shivered involuntarily, unable to move away. He smiled, not smirk or grinning annoyingly, but smiled and she couldn't help but return it. He was making her lose focus, forget her mask and everything she had to hide, and some small part of her; the irrational voice, loved every second of it. He was about to kiss her when he heard the door creaking open slowly. It brought the two of them crashing back down to reality and Clary jumped off the bed and away from Jace like he had bit her. He frowned but was glad she had reacted so quickly when he saw who was at the door. Jonathan.

Jonathan glared at Jace but stood in the open doorway, casting a thoughtful glance at Clary. "Dinners done. Mom even made some for you, Jace. Since you were still here." His last sentence was laced with so much meaning it was like he was telling Jace he wasn't supposed to be there. Jace stole a glance at Clary and she looked embarrassed and ashamed? Because of Jace? That's when it dawned on him that she was ashamed because Jace was supposed to be gone and Clary hadn't succeeded in getting rid of him. It made his jaw clench and he resisted the urge to throw Jonathan out of the room and continue with what he was about to do before he and Clary had been interrupted.

"Then I guess I should thank her for setting me a place at your dinner table." Jace said, hopping up from Clary's bed. Jonathan gave him a dark look before storming out of the room leaving the door open.

"Let's go down for dinner. We mustn't be late." Clary said quietly and Jace suppressed a shiver. Her voice was devoid of all emotion, expect for the fear that warned Jace of what Valentine would be willing to do if they were late. She looked back up at him and her mask was back in place, her expression blank and cold. He swallowed nervously and followed her out of the room. He gave the bed and the floorboard under her bed a glance before allowing Clary to lead him away to dinner. He knew she had felt something when he almost kissed her; he also knew that whatever she was hiding, it was under her floor. He gulped nervously at the thought of dinner with Clary and her family. 'This is going to end badly.' He thought as he followed Clary, debating whether or not to bolt now while he had the chance. Sadly, the chance was ripped from him when he felt a hand clap onto his shoulder.

"So nice to see you're joining us for dinner, Jace." Valentine told him quietly in a voice that made Jace almost quake in fear.


End file.
